


Sleepless Nights

by young_monster



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: AU, Dylan's twelve-ish, Jorel and Dylan are brothers, Jorel's around sixteen-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-04 00:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12758985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/young_monster/pseuds/young_monster
Summary: Jorel couldn't sleep one night, so he went to his safe place. His younger brother, Dylan, decided to join him.





	Sleepless Nights

**Author's Note:**

> I have nights without sleep fairly often, and one of them turned into this little fic. Please enjoy!

Jorel couldn’t remember what time it was when he went onto the roof of his house, only that it was either very late or very early, depending on how someone would look at it. He had school in the morning, but he just couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t pinpoint an exact cause of his insomnia, mainly because there were too many. It was just one of those nights where sleep was a mere hope, rather than a reality. He’s had enough of these nights to learn to prepare for them; he’s kept a small toolbox near his window, stocked with supplies of all kinds for nights like this.

The slant of the roof was perfect for lying on his back and looking up at the stars, so he rolled out a blanket to prevent him from lying on the bare shingles. Once the blanket was even on the roof, he began going through the rest of the box. There’s various snacks, drinks - both caffeinated and not, depending on how he feels - and a couple lengthy novels that would keep his mind occupied for hours. Although tonight feels more like a music night for him. 

He took out a small pillow to rest on, then laid down on the blanket, foregoing the drinks and snacks for tonight. He plugged his earbuds into his phone, and turned on his music. He had a wide variety, containing a little bit of every genre, but he mostly listened to rock. He always found the harsh music calming, something his mother never understood. 

She was a good woman, and did her best to support him and his siblings, but there was only so much she could do. On past nights like this, she just told him to take sleeping pills, but they never worked for him. He had just felt drowsy, and still couldn’t sleep. So he started taking to the roof as an escape. Sometimes, he might manage to catch an hour or two of a weak sleep before school, but it never seemed to make a difference. He would just end up bringing a thermos of coffee to school to avoid falling asleep in class. 

He didn’t notice the window to his room open, not until it was slammed shut. He quickly sat up, turning around in a slight panic, briefly fearing that his mother would make him go back inside, but it was only his youngest brother, Dylan. 

“What’re you doing out here, you should be in bed.” Jorel stood and went over to his brother, enveloping him a warm hug. “You have school in the morning. Fifth grade isn’t gonna teach itself.” 

“You should be in bed too,” Dylan pointed out, relaxing into the embrace. “Why are you out here? Momma says we ain’t supposed to be on the roof.” 

“Aren’t, not ain’t,” Jorel corrected, a habit he’d picked up from their mother. He briefly smiled at his brother’s concern. He pat Dylan’s head, and briefly wondered how his brother knew he’d be on the roof. “I couldn’t sleep. And the stars are really pretty tonight, wanna go lie on the blanket and look at them?” 

Dylan nodded vigorously, and Jorel couldn’t help but crack a grin. He led his brother over to the blanket, and smoothed it out so they could both lie down. Jorel laid down first, then Dylan, who snuggled right up to his side, resting his head on his brother’s outstretched arm. 

After only a few moments of silence, Dylan asked, “How many stars are there?”

Jorel chuckled at his brother’s naivety, internally wishing he could be that age again. “A lot, little man. A whole lot of ‘em.” He rustled his brother’s hair a little bit, and smiled when he saw Dylan yawn. “Go to sleep, alright?” 

“I’m not tired,” Dylan countered in a weak voice. “Tell me a story, Jay.” 

“About what?”

“Anything. How about something from your social studies class? I know you have a good grade in that class.” Dylan’s voice grew quieter, signaling to Jorel that he was about to fall back asleep, but he complied anyways, and thought of a quick story. 

“You’re learning about the original thirteen colonies, right?” 

Dylan nodded once, a sluggish movement. 

“So imagine, someone wants to take a trip from somewhere like Boston, all the way down to Georgia. They have their money ready, supplies, and a wagon with an ox. They’re going to go meet up with some old friends, and they might even move to Georgia if they like it.” 

“Can their name be Morty?” Dylan asked softly, suppressing a yawn. “I don’t care if their a boy or a girl, I just want their name to be Morty.” 

Jorel chuckled, deciding that was a perfect name. “Right, so Morty’s on their way down into Georgia. Along the way, they meet a woman claiming to be a witch. Witches were usually a bad thing, but Morty was curious. They decided to go along with this witch, back to her house, and find out the truth.” 

“Does Morty get turned into a chicken?” 

“Better. Morty follows the witch, and finds out that she lives in a secret mansion, hidden to most people. She takes Morty inside, and shows them that the witch likes to paint. She’s been painting for as long as she can remember, and she paints different types of scenery, like the woods or the desert. Morty goes over to one of the paintings, and tries to touch it, but as soon as their hand touches the actually canvas, they fall into the painting!” 

Dylan took a sharp breath, but otherwise stayed silent. 

“Morty realizes that they’re in the woods that was on the painting, and they make it out and back into the witch’s gallery. they then take their time exploring all of the paintings, popping into each one, just to confirm what they’re seeing. When they’re done, the witch says…” Jorel trailed off, noticing that his brother has fallen asleep again. 

He sighed with a proud grin, and plugged his music back in, going back to admiring the stars. Ignoring the slight jealousy he felt for his youngest brother’s ability to just fall asleep, he picked Dylan up, and very carefully carried him back into the house. He placed the young boy on the bed in their shared room, making sure to tuck him in. Once he was confident that his brother wouldn’t reawaken during the night, he went back out onto the roof, and laid down on the blanket. 

Jorel plugged his music back in, and focused on the stars above him. He quizzed himself on the few constellations he could recognize, then started coming up with random new constellations, giggling to himself every few moments. 

Hopefully one day, sleep would be less of a chore for him. It could be the blissful reprieve it’s supposed to be, rather than just one more little thing adding to his mountain of stress. 

However, since today was not that day, he ignored everything, and let his music carry his subconscious through the quiet hours until dawn arrived, and he had to leave the peaceful roof, and tackle life one day at a time. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this, and if you did, please leave a comment or a kudos!


End file.
